


Delirium

by Wispie



Series: All The Things We Know And Feel [3]
Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Canon Compliant, Charles Xavier is a Mess, Heavy Drinking, Loss, M/M, Post Beach Divorce, Post-Break Up, Post-X-Men: First Class (2011), Regret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 07:34:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27160081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wispie/pseuds/Wispie
Summary: Charles mourns the loss of Erik. Days blend together. Pain is everywhere. He chooses to retreat into himself.
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier
Series: All The Things We Know And Feel [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1981823
Kudos: 18





	Delirium

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt list: https://whumptober2020.tumblr.com/post/187356400823/october-approaches-and-so-does-whumptober-2019
> 
> No. 3: Delirium
> 
> This one's shorter than I wanted it to be, it's hard to write a lot of abstract angst without a real plot.

The room spun around Charles as he tried desperately to get his vision to stop swimming. The massive amounts of whiskey he drank the night before weren’t helping, but he just wanted it to stop. _Just— stop._ It would be great if everything could just pause for a moment, if he could just freeze time to give himself the space he needed to think and process and move on. But that wasn’t his power. He didn’t really have a power anymore, just the ghostly traces of one. Whispers in his sleep, voices in his head, screams tearing at his mind. 

He worked on muscle memory to find and administer the serum that treated his spine and suppressed his powers. The room swam a little less once he’d taken it, but he was probably still slightly drunk from the night before so the disorientation didn’t leave him entirely.

\--

Hank had long since gone to bed, but Charles found himself entirely lacking the ability to sleep. He’d lay down, but his thoughts never quieted, his eyes never felt heavy. So he grabbed a bottle and wandered the mansion, stumbling from room to room in various states of distress. Some meant nothing to him, or the aches that they elicited were so old and familiar that he was practically numb to them. His mother’s bedroom, the kitchen, the dining room where students used to eat. Others caused him to fall to his knees and break down into haggard sobs on the cold floor, curling up to protect himself. Raven’s room, _Erik’s room_. 

He hadn’t meant to go to Erik’s room, he was just wandering around that wing and floor of the house, stalking between rooms, running his finger over light layers of dust, contemplating the bits and pieces of detritus people left behind. A bobby pin. A comic book. He left one room and moved onto the next without thinking. He had to have been completely plastered to not know where he was going, Charles remembered thinking as he entered the room and that familiar smell overtook him. _Erik_. He froze. He hadn’t been here in months, no one had. Hank had suggested packing everything up and using it as a dorm with the argument that separating that space from the memory of Erik would be therapeutic for Charles. But no, he couldn’t bring himself to entertain the idea. These things were Erik’s, and they were all Charles had left of him. 

He took a few slow steps forward, but every glimpse he got, shrouded in moonlight, only made him feel worse. His chest ached, his heart throbbed, he fell to his knees and then to the floor amidst angry, regretful cries. Tears streamed down his face, pooling in the corner of his eye the way they had that day on the beach. 

He wanted desperately to be able to remember Erik well, to think about all the wonderful good that had existed between them without being crushed by the pain of losing it. Maybe that would come later, but for now, Charles had to stumble out of that room before his thoughts could get too dark, before he did anything he’d regret. 

His legs brought him back to his room, where he collapsed into bed and sobbed feebly, glad no one was around to see. He didn’t remember falling asleep. 

\-- 

Charles fell into a nearby chair, remembering the previous night’s events. Remembering the pain he felt then, it all came rushing back, new and fresh and raw. He didn’t feel like leaving his room today, he didn’t feel like eating breakfast or making tea or doing anything at all, really. 

He mourned the loss of Erik more than anything else. Days blended together. Pain was everywhere, whether or not he took the treatment for his spine. He had to choose between his own pain and that of millions of tortured people. He chose to retreat into himself. 


End file.
